


You’ve Got So Much In Common

by Spellfire01



Series: In The Middle [1]
Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Character Study, Duck has two hands, F/M, M/M, Major Spoilers, Multi, Poly-V, Polyamorous Character, Pre-Poly, Pre-Relationship, why choose between an alien or a cryptid when you can love both?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-17
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:34:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22284916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spellfire01/pseuds/Spellfire01
Summary: Duck Newton was pretty comfortable with his sexuality.But then he had met Minerva. And then he’d met Indrid. And by god, they had him in a daze.
Relationships: Indrid Cold & Minerva (The Adventure Zone), Indrid Cold/Duck Newton, Indrid Cold/Duck Newton/Minerva, Minerva/Duck Newton
Series: In The Middle [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1604107
Comments: 18
Kudos: 68





	You’ve Got So Much In Common

**Author's Note:**

> I love these three so much and because there’s no content for them I figured I’d make some myself. 
> 
> Not betad, we die like men.

Minerva is many things. She can be loud, boisterous and overzealous but she certainly isn’t stupid. She lead her own military back in the day after all.

She knows a connection when she sees one, and she sees it in the way duck greets his friend Indrid Cold, Mothman, Seer of Futures during his unexpected return to Kepler, West Virginia.

“How are you, man? What a delight!”

Minerva has never actually met Indrid, but she knows of him. His existence mentioned mysteriously in passing comments from Duck. A grumble about how his brief-kinda-friend would presumably be glad about the weather growing considerably warmer, but less so about the eggnog being cleared off of Leo’s shelves when the military allowed the latest shipment of groceries to be delivered to the general store.

A quiet evening for once where Aubrey had fallen asleep on the sofa with Doctor Harris Bonkers PhD nestled in her arms. Minerva had muted the volume (which Duck had shown her. Minerva had become surprisingly well adjusted to this world just enough to manage, and she was very proud of this fact, even if the technology here was so prehistoric it have her a headache to think about), the gentle scrubbing of Duck washing the dishes and Aubrey’s steady breathing filling the air.

Minerva had crained her neck to look over her arm resting on the back of the sofa only to see her favourite human scouring the same plate he had been scouring nearly ten minutes ago.

“Duck Newton, Is Everything Alrigh-“

“Where d’you reckon Indrid’s run off to?”

After a few moments of tense silence, Minerva rose from her seat and strode the short distance into the open-plan kitchen, bare feet silent against the faded, chipped tiles. She lay a hand on his shoulder purposefully, giving it a soft squeeze of understanding. “I am afraid I do not have the answer to that, Duck Newton, but I am sure there is a good reason for his absence. Who Wouldn’t Want To Be Fighting By Your Side In This Time Of Great Need?”

Duck had huffed out a faint laugh at the return of her usual bravo, placing a warm hand over hers. “‘Ain’t much fightin’ here for what I can see but...Sure hope you’re right Minnie, I sure hope you’re right.”

In the present day, Indrid reaches out and grabs Duck’s wrist, interrupting their dallying to look at his watch in order to make a dry remark. His hold is gentle but firm and Minerva has the sneaking suspicion that the strange man doesn’t want to let go. And from the slight reddening of Duck’s cheeks, neither does he.

Minerva cannot always see when she is beaten, but she will be happy for whatever may become of that connection, for Duck’s sake.

_*_*_*_*_*_

For all that he can see, Indrid Cold is not a mind reader though he feels he has to remind the fair folk of Kepler that on the regular. He may play up the coy mystic from time to time but has been quietly observant for many, many years and can see infatuation a mile off.

It still, however, catches him slightly off-guard when, while readying for battle and the horrors that will accompany it, he glances a vision a few minutes ahead of Minerva knighting Duck Newton in the woods before they are to part ways. It doesn’t happen often, but to view such an...intimate moment between his...for lack of a better term, friend, and his said friend’s former mentor, it feel like he’s eavesdropping on something privet.

Indrid doesn’t know much about Minerva, though Duck has talked about her on occasion during the few times he hiked out to Indrid’s winnebago to check on him before he left for good without so much as a note.

“You mentioned a presence, Duck?” 

The ranger had rubbed his neck awkwardly as he did in every timeline and fidgeted with the mug of lukewarm eggnog he had nursed in his hands for the last hour or so. He wasn’t going to drink it apart from that one timeline where Duck downs some and immediately regrets it, but Indrid wasn’t going to mention that. His trailer was practically littered to the brim with half-drained mugs of the stuff after all. He’d get around to cleaning them eventually.

“Uhh, well...Minerva’s less of a presence and more of a projection? I don’t know, man, it’s weird. I was eighteen when she first appeared, after the vision I told you about yesterday, spoutin’ about all this ‘chosen one’ bullshit that I was wantin’ nothing to do with. 

“Then once the first bomb-bomb reared it’s ugly head she just appeared, this glowing, blue, six-foot-something beefcake in the middle of my apartment— Indrid no, don’t-“

Duck heaved a sigh covering his eyes with his free hand to block out the way Indrid’s feathery eyebrows kept rearing suggestively over his glasses at that last part. That wasn’t helping _at all._

After a light, trilling chuckle that sounded more insect than it did human, Indrid returned seriously to his fortune-teller-getup he trips so well into. “It seems she will be important to your future, though I cannot see how as of yet.”

“Yeah, no shit.” Duck winced, downing some of his drink then grimacing harder. Ah, there it is. “Ugh. Sorry, that was mighty rude of me, didn’t mean to brush you off like that. I do appreciate the help though, y’know that right?”

Indrid carefully pried the mug from his hands and set it down on the overturned crate that made his coffee table where it would make a home for the next-couple-few days, and smiled just a little too widely. “I know.”

Flickering through futures was a waste of time given the oncoming apocalypse, even given the incredibly slim chance that this last minute plan would work. They had one chance. Once future that would succeed and if the slightest thing went wrong then...well. You all know the drill.

But as it was the end of the world, Indrid was feeling rather petty, and proceeded to flick through any possibility of Duck And Minerva that presented itself. 

It was a fairly common prospect, them pulling one or the other into a goodbye kiss that lasted until Leo cleared his throat because, well, the world wasn’t going to save itself and despite the bitterness bubbling in Indrid’s chest at these visions he was used to rejection and would handle it appropriately. His favorite human would be happy at least, even if they didn’t manage to survive the night.

_*_*_*_*_*_

Duck Newton was pretty comfortable with his sexuality.

Crushes had popped up from time to time and less often than not they would blossom into something that lasted maybe a few months, before ending abruptly for whatever reason under the sun. Duck was okay this, he wasn’t looking for anything anyway. He had his cat Winnie and an entire forest to look after, and somebody had to keep Aubrey’s vigilante tendencies to a minimum especially given their recent FBI infestation problem.

But then he had met Minerva. And then he’d met Indrid. And by god, they had him in a daze.

Despite knowing Minerva for far longer, duck had built up a wall of avoidance and ignorance around her for over twenty years until just under a year ago. Since they were rebuilding their relationship from the ground-up and since the whole ‘I’m saving the goatman’ incident, things had been a little complicated between them to say the least.

But Indrid, he was a marvel. Off putting and unnerving at first for obvious reasons, but so interesting and likable in a way duck hadn’t connected to a stranger in years. Even though Indrid left abruptly a few days after his short-lived kidnapping, duck had spent those days visiting him, at first to apologize for punching him in the face to knock off his glasses - a little extreme but he was under a lot of pressure there - and then just to spend time with him.

Unknowingly on Indrid’s last day in Kepler, he had taken Duck up on the ranger’s offer to hike a particularly pleasant trail through the afternoon and into the evening. They had made it to one side of the mountain overlooking a hidden lake as the sun set at 4pm, admiring the view as they caught their breath and ate an early dinner.

Duck had been about to make a dry remark on something Indrid had commented, glanced up at him only to witness a sight that made his words die in his mouth, his breath unfairly stollen away. The sun setting behind them caught Indrid’s wild mess of silver hair like a halo, tips and strands illuminated white and his huge, red glasses catching the orange-yellow sunset in them. He almost looked healthy in the glow and, even with a soup mustache from the flasks duck had brought along, he kind of really wanted to kiss him.

Duck’s realization that he had also fallen for Minerva, however, had been far less mundane.

The exact moment the warrior had jumped from the portal, skidded to a halt and defended him on the huge telescope’s satellite dish from the abomination that was dead-set on ending his newly ‘chosen’ career, Minerva had looked over her real, tangible, broad shoulder down at him, bald tattooed head glowing faintly in the night and golden eyes shining with mirth, and Duck knew that he was doomed. Obliterated. Completely _Fucked_.

He wasn’t sure how much more his poor heart could handle before it gave it’s last ‘hurrah!’ and gave out from the sheer amount of breath-stealing and near-death-and/or-incredibly-anxiety-inducing-scenarios he was facing on a day to day basis at this point.

But like it or not, he had a world to save and two incredibly important people to make it back alive for, so fuck it. He’d somehow gotten this far.

Time to kill the Quell.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and suggestions feed my motivation hyenas! Thanks for reading <3


End file.
